


one step forward, three years back

by anaccounttofollowyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Suna Rintarou did not go pro but he still went down the right path
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaccounttofollowyou/pseuds/anaccounttofollowyou
Summary: One more step across the line and they’d be something else other than two people lost, coasting and going through what had been the longest float in uncertainty.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31
Collections: SunaOsa Valentine's Exchange





	one step forward, three years back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiritscript](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritscript/gifts).



> For SunaOsa Valentine's Exchange 2021

When one is hell-bent on work, one ought to get a cup of coffee to keep on going. Some would opt for a wilder choice and pick themselves up with alcohol, maybe get a reset or a burst of renewed strength.

A punch, however, right in the face as soon as one walks out the bathroom definitely works just as well – enough to throw a punch back solely by reflex, maybe a bit out of revenge, too.

The pain in Suna’s jaw and the ruckus in the bar fight woke him up from the already mellowing night. Helping up the guy he just punched back in the face completely sobered him up.

“‘Samu?”

**–––––**

Suna had planned to go off alone and blow off some steam in the local watering hole, get a few bottles in, and head on home. He didn't think the night would have brought him by the river, holding a can of cold beer on his cheek, one hand on his hip, and the personification of a dream he had had and pretended to not think of for 3 years standing beside him.

A flick of the wrist and the stone hopped on the water, four times. 

“Nice,” Suna said, not really looking at Osamu.

Suna found a stone flat enough and dusted it off. He angled himself to the side and took a step back. It skipped once, twice, thrice… six times.

Suna couldn’t help the triumphant grin on his lips when Osamu grunted next to him.

“That was the stone,” Osamu said.

“It’s not the stone.”

“It’s definitely the stone.”

“Okay,” Suna shrugged, laughing with his lips touching his almost-empty can and Osamu did the same before taking a swig.

Suna wanted to find a question or an exchange fitting of their unlikely and unprecedented reunion.

_I’m sorry._

_I should have called you back._

_I’m sorry._

But he came up with nothing. 

“Ya didn’t go pro?” It was more of a statement than a question from Osamu.

Suna hummed, “Eh.”

Osamu chuckled as he motioned for both of them to sit down, “The hell ya mean ‘eh’?”

“I got an offer to work here, a desk job, and I thought, ‘wouldn’t mind being a slave to capitalists.’”

“But ya played back in college, right?” Osamu asked.

“And?” 

Suna said it in a teasing tone, a response he always used back in high school, another attempt to make the other laugh but when he turned to Osamu, he saw that he was seriously waiting for an answer. 

This was something he has been asked about a long time ago and many times before but he never really answered it properly. He took a breath before he spoke.

“And I want to try lots of things. Can’t be tied down to just one thing.”

Suna stared into the water. He did play back in college, and he’s been scouted to go pro countless times but even though he loved the sport, he found himself liking where he was after leaving more. His work paid well, and he still played volleyball, for leisure at least. He was closer to home, too, and he had more time doing things he wanted to try that he couldn’t before.

It took a while for him to decide. He reached out to Aran, even Kita, but if he knew that he’d be at this exact moment in time years after, deciding would have been slightly easier.

If Suna had gone pro, he would probably be in Osaka, Shizuoka, or some place else right now. He definitely wouldn’t be sharing a quiet and familiar night like this. He wouldn’t be pretending to not want to sit closer to Osamu who he had purposefully been lagging on walking along on their way there just so he could look at him. He wouldn't have been at that bar at that exact moment.

Suna hid his smile. “Why are you here, by the way?” he asked as if he hadn’t been following Onigiri Miya’s announcements online.

A smile formed on Osamu’s lips, and it grew wider the more he explained about the Tokyo branch finally opening. Suna congratulated him and found himself mirroring Osamu’s smile, only less toothy and a lot softer.

The night was filled with alternating lulls and stories; how Osamu’s mother had been doing, if Suna’s sister still danced and competed, where they were staying, how long would Osamu be in Tokyo, how was the last year of college, and if they still caught up with their old teammates. 

To Suna’s surprise, jokes that should have been long forgotten and stories that should have been avoided made an appearance, but he found himself adding up to it and still laughing at the same jokes.

They caught up on what the other had been up to and working on for the last few years but they both didn’t dare approach the reason why in some alternate universe, they wouldn’t have to ask. 

It was only when Osamu’s alarm rang that they realized how late in the dawn it already was, a reminder that this was supposed to end one way or another.

Suna laid motionless in his bed that night, relishing the warmth in his cheeks and chest when he thought of the sound of Osamu’s laughter again. The quiet mixed with the sound of skipping rocks, titter, and beer cans being opened still echoes in his ear and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

Suna let out a breathy laugh and rolled his eyes when he remembered how flushed Osamu was when he only drank half of what Suna had. Osamu’s tolerance was as weak as he remembered and if not for his big body, Suna was pretty sure he would have had to carry Osamu home. He would have to help Osamu up if he’s too wobbly or dizzy to walk. He would have to place a glass of water and ibuprofen on his bedside table. He would have to wipe Osamu’s face and body with a damp towel before giving him a change of clothes and settling him down in bed.

The dream was _too beautiful_ and the chime from Suna’s phone reminded him of what it was, a dream.

Suna took a second before checking his phone. 

It could have just been a random notification from anyone really, but his mind wanted to believe that this was from who he thought it was. He rolled over and grabbed his phone, and then-

 **From:** Miya Osamu  
“Are you free to meet up after work?”

Suna rubbed at his eyes and waited a couple more minutes to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating, or half-drunk and half-asleep, or maybe both. He mused on what to respond as if his mind hadn't been screaming the answer the moment he saw the message.

He grimaced at the name that remained unchanged until then before responding with the time at which he got out of work.

His phone chimed shortly after.

 **From:** Osamu  
“Sounds great. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow.”

Suna was supposed to go on Instagram, maybe scroll for an hour before he jumps on to Twitter - the usual - when another message came through.

 **From:** Osamu  
“Go to sleep.”

Suna’s phone fell out of his hand and into his bed. He covered his eyes slowly with his arm and steadied himself with a deep breath.

He shouldn’t still be this happy from such a simple reminder coming from _him_. 

He knows how this will end, God knows he’s thought about it a thousand times. 

He’s going to fall as hard as he did before and he’d lose himself and he’s not sure he can pick himself up again.

So many other thoughts swirled at the back of Suna’s mind but one overtook them all and came out on top.

He smiled.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

**–––––**

There was a time when Osamu and Suna were inseparable, well not as inseparable as the twins, but he was close.

Back in high school, they’d jump from car to car after a long exam week, and they’d look for anything to eat along the way. It didn’t matter what kind. Suna would pick up something he’d think looks “interesting” - not even “good”, just “interesting” - and Osamu would be there to finish it in case he didn’t like it.

They’d fall asleep next to each other on bus rides home after arguing what music to listen to but ultimately choosing the same songs anyway. They’d share a pair of 100-yen earphones with an awful balance of middles, highs, and lows, but it didn’t matter. For Suna, the loudest of sounds had always been his heartbeat thumping in his ears.

He loved doing these things with Osamu - the impromptu excursions, the ribbing, and the closeness, being there for him whenever he needed a break or to talk about nothing and everything, but at the back of his mind, in these moments, he always wondered if Osamu only wanted him for the fun times. 

He always shook the thoughts away, not letting himself go down that path any further lest he breaks.

Suna has always been direct and borderline evilly-blunt. If he deemed something worthy of his energy and time, he would say anything that came to his mind about something that piqued his interest or made him wonder but all throughout high school, he didn’t dare ask what it meant whenever he and Osamu would sit too close to each other even when there was plenty of space around. He never asked what it meant whenever he’d get a pat on the back that would linger a little too long or whenever he’d get a smile and a high five that always came after an emergency set from Osamu or whenever he’d be woken up by the soft brush of Osamu’s knuckles on his cheeks, or he’d be at the receiving end of Osamu’s small and endearing pout as he rubbed at his forehead after Suna lightly flicked him awake.

He never asked, but he never stopped thinking about it either.

When they graduated and got into different universities, Suna thought that maybe that was it. Osamu would have to find someone new to run to for his escapades and he could finally be free from wondering what every lingering glance and smiles that were too tender to be friendly meant. 

It wasn’t it. 

The distance and separation weren’t it for even the slightest mention of a classmate or a groupmate from Osamu still made Suna’s blood run cold. It wasn’t it because even apart, Miya Osamu still managed to fill the crevices of his mind with questions. 

What did it mean whenever Osamu would ask him to keep the line on when they were both falling asleep from a long night of studying or whenever Osamu would call him when he had to go somewhere. Whenever Osamu would still rest on Suna’s shoulders and start speaking his mind with no bars held and ask for Suna’s opinions for the big decisions and stick to them.

Aside from these questions, however, Suna could confidently say that he knew Osamu. He knew what ticks him off, what he wants to eat when he’s grumpy, what color he dislikes and what suits him best even if he doesn’t think so, what he is allergic to, what kind of music he listens to when he’s studying, his favorite chefs, and his love for his twin, not that he’ll ever say it out loud.

But just like he knew Osamu, Osamu knew him, too.

To Suna, Osamu was someone he could confide in, someone he could talk to about his issues at home without worrying if it was too much or if he was being bothersome, and even if he was, Osamu never mentioned it. Osamu was a friend he could bring home and invite for family events and not worry if he would fit in or if he’s comfortable, the man now knew where their spices and pans were better than himself.

Osamu knew him without a phone or a camera or a volleyball, and he had always felt naked under his gaze. And Suna let himself be seen, way past the quips and the indifference, he was real. He never lied to him.

Suna could easily be regarded as indifferent and stoic but with Osamu, he was different. In private moments, little by little every day, he showed Osamu his limits and weaknesses. He unraveled himself to him believing, trusting that this could be something and maybe that was the reason why when _it_ happened, Suna crashed and burned.

After a while, thanks to his sister’s constant company, it got a little bit better. 

After a year, “thanks” to his co-workers' constant nagging, he tried dating after Osamu, but he felt nothing.

He thought of reconnecting with Osamu but as he watched the boy he adored more than he thought he could ever from afar, reaching his dreams, without him, he found that Osamu was right with what he did. It was for the best.

Every step Osamu took closer to his dream, Suna celebrated it from a distance. 

Even with all the pain he had felt, he never hated Osamu. He found that he could never.

**–––––**

It was a hectic day at the office and Suna blasted through his tasks without breaks. His mind was fried but when his co-worker bid goodbye, and he saw the time, he perked up. He packed up his bag and hung his headphones on his neck before sprinting straight to the station.

Suna wore jeans, a jacket close to the maroon of their old high school jacket, and he had been looking at the reflective surfaces along the way trying to part his hair in the right place. He had now shorter and naturally dark hair and though he did not try to pursue volleyball professionally, he still maintained his build from when he played in high school and college, something he was quite proud of.

It was closer to the evening than the afternoon when he arrived at the station and reached the top of the platform. He saw Osamu from afar and froze. 

Suna has thought of multiple ways it would go down if they ever meet again, what he would say, how he would act, where it could be. He told himself that if they ever see each other again, he won’t hang on to anything. He rehearsed it, had conversations with himself on how it would go down, he was prepared. He did not expect that facing real-life Osamu was much more difficult. 

Seeing him after all those years, Suna thought he could put his usual neutral demeanor, but he should have known that Osamu would still have the same effect on him - calming him down and making him let go and trust him again.

Osamu was wearing a white shirt and some jeans, nothing extraordinary but Suna felt a mixture of fear and amazement. When Osamu spotted him and waved, Suna swore he saw the crooked teeth he always teased Osamu about just to get inside his space. At some point, Suna realized Osamu never cared about it but he’d always fake his annoyance, let Suna continue with his teasing, and snark at him. A pointless back and forth.

Osamu looked great, amazing even, with his bigger build and stronger jaw and features but seeing him right now with that smile, Suna felt a wave of ease, this was still _his_ Osamu. 

Suna realized he stopped walking and quickly shook his head out of his delusion. He waved back at Osamu and though they looked like nothing but two people meeting in the station, the moment could very well be a movie scene. 

His mind raced the closer he got. Was a handshake too stupid? Was a high five unnecessary? Was a hug too much? When he finally reached Osamu and met his gaze without any hesitance - or maybe because he couldn’t tear it away - they shared a smile, warm and genuine. This, for now, was enough for a greeting.

“How was work?” Suna asked.

“Lots of customers today and the others weren’t doing so fast, so we got swamped.” Osamu scratched his chin, “I should really get more people, or get better people.”

Suna looked at Osamu again, he never really stopped looking. He asked himself how he ever survived without this in front of him. The photos were nice, but still, the real deal was better.

“Wow, boss man.”

Osamu scoffed and shook his head, “how about you?”

“It’s fine, had some deadlines I had to catch up on, nothing out of the ordinary. Someone had a birthday, and they got him a cake, it’s usually like that here, but they got him a phallic cake with the whole shebang. I pity the newbies who had to see that.”

Osamu laughed, laughter just like back at their escapades, and a few nights before, and Suna still liked the sound of it. 

A smirk found its place on Suna’s lips. It’s funny how they could fall into step with each other like this so easily when they should have hated or resented each other. This was like a familiar scene, a memory they made before.

Suna’s smile slowly faded when he realized that it was indeed a really familiar scene. He remembered how close they were, how close they got, and how that ended.

The train ride home was nothing out of the ordinary. Suna has always taken the window seat, but he knew Osamu liked it too, so he gave it to him - and with Osamu looking out the window, Suna could look at him shamelessly, hoping that his stare would ask the questions his lips couldn’t say. 

Suna reveled in the feeling of their knees flushed together and held the backpack on his lap a little tighter. The old Suna would have laughed at him, he didn’t change; still satisfied with the bare minimum. 

He leaned back on his seat and closed his eyes, this should be enough, for now. Or maybe he’d be fine if this was all.

“Suna.”

Suna groaned at the call of his name. He got back to the wakened world as Osamu tapped his shoulder a few more times.

“We’re near.”

Suna blinked once, twice. When he realized that his backpack was missing, he panicked only to find it in Osamu’s lap.

“Ya almost dropped it earlier,” Osamu said, giving it back to Suna.

They motioned to exit the car. “It didn’t drop on the floor right?” Suna asked while rummaging through his backpack and Osamu guiding him out.

Suna pulled a camera out of his bag and inspected if it worked, not waiting for Osamu to answer.

Suna continued inspecting the camera and swiped through some of the photos to quickly check. It was only when they reached the bottom of the stairs and the warmth wrapping on his arm disappeared that he realized they were out of the station. He hurriedly put the camera back in his bag, it was the start of a solo walk home.

Was a handshake too stupid? Was a high five unnecessary? Was a hug overfamiliar? Would a smile suffice again? 

Osamu broke his thoughts when he adjusted his own bag and started to turn away, raising his hand in a wave. 

Suna waved back and his heart clenched the littlest bit. His hand fell to his side.

_There he went again._

He looked away and gripped the straps of his backpack. 

He was supposed to start walking away when he heard his name being called. He turned and tensed up seeing Osamu jogging his way.

_Did I look desperate? Was I too obvious? He’s laughing, wait, why is he laughing?_

Osamu reached him and smiled, “I said, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Huh?” 

_Oh._

Suna shook his head a little before continuing, “Yeah. Sure. Same time?”

“Yeah. See ya.” 

This time when they waved their goodbyes again, Suna walked taller. 

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow sounds good.

**–––––**

It was still half an hour before their usual time to meet up when Suna arrived at the station.

Well, "usual" seemed over the top when it had only happened once.

When he saw that Osamu was nowhere to be found, he realized how this was really too good to be true. He let out a long and hushed sigh. He pulled his phone out and looked at the time again, tapping the screen every time it blacks out.

"Suna!" He saw Osamu emerge from the stairs half-jogging towards him, he was huffing, “did you wait long?”

"Not really, just early." 

Suna eyed the sweat beading on his forehead and handed a towel to him, motioning vaguely to his face, "do you usually close this early?"

“Thanks - No, just today.”

"Why?"

Osamu hummed but finished wiping the sweat from his forehead, chin, and nape before responding, "I'm meeting with a friend.”

He folded the towel and smiled at Suna, “I'll just return this next week. I promise."

" _You promise?_ ” Suna scoffed and peeled his eyes away from Osamu’s smile. “ _I'll believe it when I see it._ ”

He thought of it as a joke but given where they stood, Suna knew how bitter it would have sounded if he had said it out loud, except that he did.

He wanted to jump in the tracks right then and there.

"It's fine," Osamu said as he pocketed it. “I'll wash it.”

Suna shifted on his feet and pulled out his phone, scrolled mindlessly over whatever app he clicked first just to distract him from the urge to smack his forehead.

"How far is your store from here?" he asked without looking at Osamu and as if he didn't already know exactly where it was.

He had been following Osamu’s ventures. He never really stopped - it wasn’t like he could. He did try but every time there’s an update from the page or even slip-ups from Atsumu’s account about the latest news on Onigiri Miya, he couldn’t help but smile and be proud of him.

He remembered when Osamu used to doubt himself and worry endlessly about the future almost every day during his first years in college. Suna only listened, nodded, or gave his honest opinion when Osamu seemed to need it. But not once did he doubt Osamu. 

Suna remembered how thick Osamu’s accent would get when his filter came off and he would start complaining about school work. 

He also remembered how soft and quiet Osamu would get when he’d be too tired and only speak in whispers of _“I’m done”_ or _“I should just quit.”_

The thing was, Suna also remembered that more often than not, Osamu would always ace those classes.

He always believed that Osamu would make it. Osamu loved food. No doubt about it. It was evident in all his being since the first time he met him. It would take hard work and would take some time to reach his dreams of starting his own business but like always, he would find a way to work it all out. 

Well, not _always_.

"It's just a few blocks away,” Osamu answered. “Ya should come by some time."

"Sure."

"Where's yer office?"

Suna opens the map from his phone and tilts it to Osamu's side, "You see that?"

"Where?"

Osamu closed the gap between them. Maybe a little too close because when he craned his neck to look at Suna’s phone screen, Suna only had to look at Osamu’s way and their faces would be a breath apart.

Suna inched away and pointed vaguely at the screen. "There."

"Ah." 

Osamu moved back to his original distance and Suna kept his phone.

Suna cleared his throat before speaking, "We rent a floor there, it's not that bad." 

_Smooth._

“Oh. Cool.”

Suna wondered where all the comfort from yesterday went or if this was how it should really be and yesterday was just a one-off chance.

With still a lot of time to kill and the awkwardness between them growing, Suna thanked the heavens when Osamu finally suggested to sit and wait on the benches. 

Suna took his camera out of his bag and he noticed Osamu looking at it.

The camera was a gift for himself. It was pretty expensive when they were still in high school, but he scrapped some of his savings and got to buy a 2nd hand one. He took utmost care of it. He spent nights watching photography tutorials and device maintenance, and he would chew Osamu’s ear off the moment Osamu mentions anything related to it.

Ever since he got it, he has almost always brought it with him, and among many adventures they have been through, one particular memory decided to fill his mind at that moment - a memory of a beach, the sunset, soft smiles, and beautiful gray eyes.

**–––––**

During that time, he and Osamu were already pursuing and were busied by different passions in their own colleges so Suna was a little bit surprised (but very grateful) when Osamu agreed to his knee-jerk reaction of asking him to clear out his weekend, no questions asked, right after winning his first collegiate match.

The weekend came and Suna remembered seeing Osamu, sitting calmly by the sand, facing the setting sun, and watching the waves in the sea.

The wind was playing with Osamu’s gray hair, blowing it in different directions, and though gray wasn’t noticeable to some and can even be considered dull, Suna only noticed how it always suited Osamu and how it always reflected nicely in the sun. 

Suna only found after a few years that most of the photos he captured were of the shades of gray. He was probably looking for things that he deemed beautiful, unconsciously searching for things reminding him of gray hair and gray eyes. 

He pointed his camera at the man in front of him and called. He meant to shout but Osamu’s name rolled too tenderly, too softly on his tongue. Osamu looked at him and furrowed his brows at the camera before laughing right after.

Suna stood there behind the lens, motionless, breathless. It was as if the world decided to bless him to witness the most beautiful thing that ever existed. 

Osamu stretched out his hand to him, palm facing up, “Come here.” 

Suna’s eyes softened at this sight, and he wanted nothing more than to capture this. “No. Stay there.”

Osamu fully turned to him ready to get up, a smile still on his lips, “Suna.” 

That was probably a warning, a threat, but to Suna’s ears, it was the sweetest way he has ever heard his name be spoken.

Suna cleared his throat before adjusting the camera’s focus, “No. Stay right there.”

“Look at me,” he thought. “Just like that.”

Osamu scoffed and gave up his attempt to stand up. He looked into the sea and even though Suna loved seeing him from every angle, he really wanted to see his face. He called Osamu to look at the camera and when he did, there was calmness and fondness in those gray eyes and smile and Suna could not help mirroring it.

He inspected the photos he took and bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from getting too lost and carried away. He hoped he wasn’t dreaming when he noticed that Osamu wasn’t looking directly at the camera but at him.

When Suna looked up, Osamu was already in front of him and took the camera from his hands.

“You smile for me this time.”

“Do you even know how to use that?”

“I just point then click, right?” Osamu looked through the viewfinder, “Why is it so bright?”

Suna stared at him blankly, definitely unamused, and took the camera from Osamu’s hands, adjusting the settings. Osamu hovered behind him and tiptoed to hook his chin on his shoulder. 

Suna handed the camera back. “There. Try that.”

Osamu hummed in affirmation. “Go there, I’ll take a photo of you.”

Suna walked to where Osamu pointed but blocked the view of the lens with his hand. A few seconds more and he switched to covering his face, an attempt to hide the grin that was only growing bigger and brighter. 

When Osamu comically sighed, Suna walked back to him and held the camera still in Osamu’s hands. 

He could feel Osamu’s warmth from where their hands overlapped. He looked straight into his eyes without faltering, a taunting smile on both of their lips. 

And that was only one of the many times like that. One more step across the line and they’d be something else other than two people lost, coasting and going through what had been the longest float in uncertainty.

At some point, Suna wanted to believe that they all meant what he thought they meant, but he never took that step.

They ended up taking a photo of the two of them afterwards, and it was awfully underexposed, and they were nothing but shadows in front of the sunset. He insisted on taking another but Osamu leaned close to him and looked at the photo like it was a masterpiece and demanded a printed copy by the week.

From the day they got it printed up to the present day, the picture never lost its place in Suna’s phone case, together with a tape-covered arcade ticket with Osamu’s name written in his childhood scrawny handwriting.

**–––––**

In the station’s bench, Suna uncapped the lens, shifted to sit on his bent leg, and pointed the camera at Osamu. He wanted to have more memories just like that, and he’s done running.

When Osamu smiled at him, he wanted to believe that this wasn’t just for the photograph but the smile was for him.

The shutter clicked. Suna swallowed. 

_A start._

Suna was supposed to take another when Osamu sat closer to him. “Nah,” he pried Suna’s hands away from the camera, “Yer smiling for me this time.”

Suna wanted to put up a struggle but decided against it in the end at the cost of his prized possession. 

He could see from the side of his eyes that Osamu was now turned to him and unmoving after a serious series of clicking of buttons on the camera. He only meant to check if everything was alright but the moment he turned to him, Osamu snapped the photo.

Suna tried to laugh off the flushing of his cheeks. “It was blurred, wasn’t it?”

“Stop moving then,” Osamu said in the calmest way but not without a pout on his lips. It was the smallest pout Suna has ever seen and no matter how old Osamu got, he never really stopped being so endearing.

Suna looked up, braved his heart not to gaze at the camera but at Osamu. He let himself smile the same way he did before and tried to silence the voices at the back of his mind that told him to just stay away.

For how could he when he wanted nothing more than to be here with Osamu again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next ones after that, and create more memories and never feel again what it felt like to not be in each other’s lives.

When Suna swept his hair up, he panicked a bit when Osamu put the camera down and looked at him directly instead and opened his mouth. 

“What?” Suna asked. 

Osamu closed his mouth and cleared his throat, “Nothing”. He handed him the camera while nodding at the direction of the coming train, “Train’s here.” Osamu stood up and headed to the train doors. 

Suna took the window seat this time in exchange that Osamu would choose what they would listen to. Osamu pulled out his earphones and gave the other end to Suna, he wondered if this was too much but when a familiar song played, he just made sure to look away lest Osamu finds his cheeks reddening. He also made sure that his shoulder was pressed against Osamu’s.

When he checked the photos Osamu took, he was sure they would be under or overexposed, but he was surprised to see that they were balanced, and the settings were not far off. He side-eyed Osamu who was already asleep next to him and shut down the thoughts forming in his head, that was probably just a coincidence, and he’s been burned by wishful thinking before. 

He looked at Osamu again and his eyes landed on his hand, sitting between their legs. 

Suna shook his head. 

He looked outside and smiled to himself, but not before taking another photo of Osamu.

**–––––**

This went on for a whole week, and then a few months until there was no longer a need to ask if they’d meet.

Suna’s ride home became the highlight of his days since then.

He and Osamu would usually talk about what happened in their days. There are times, however, where they would simply listen to new and old songs and just sit next to each other in silence.

Whenever Osamu fell asleep with his palm facing up, Suna always noted how tired they looked. He wondered if Osamu would appreciate him soothing them. Osamu was the one who usually slept on their ride home, and the one time Suna did, he woke up with his head on Osamu’s shoulder - which he didn’t remember doing. When he opened his eyes, he thought it’d be awkward but Osamu just pointed at the drool on his face - which wasn’t any better.

Their meetings slowly grew out of the station, and they started spending weekends together to watch a movie, bring broken appliances to the repair shop or go out into the bar they met in, sometimes with Suna’s officemates. Suna got to know some of Onigiri Miya’s crew too when Osamu invited him to come with them when they bought new tables for the store.

With the growing frequency of their time spent together since their first meeting, Suna should have really been less surprised when Osamu invited him for their birthday, with their parents.

“Ma found a new chef and she thought we should check it out. Are you free on the 5th?”

Suna hums, “I’ll check. I’m a very busy man, ‘Samu.”

A week ago, Suna had already blocked out his calendar for the twin’s birthday.

**–––––**

“Rintarou! It’s been a while. How have you been? Did you get even taller?”

Suna bowed and laughed at the twin’s mother’s remark, feeling like he was back in high school. 

The only seat that was available was the one across from her, beside Osamu who sat in front of Atsumu. Heaven knew how many bruises they’d get by the end of the night kicking at each other’s shins.

He gave her a gift bag before taking a seat next to Osamu, “‘Samu helped pick them. I hope you like it.”

Their mother peeked inside the bag, gasped, and hastily pulled out a box, an assortment of spices from a brand she always said she wanted ever since they were still in high school.

“Thank you Rintarou.”

“It’s nothing,” he breathed a hushed sigh of relief and smiled.

“Oi Suna,” Atsumu kicked Suna’s shin, “it’s _our_ birthday.”

“Oh don’t cry ‘Tsumu,” Suna rolled his eyes.

“Atsumu, can’t your mother get a gift?”

“I’m just sayin’! He- ow! What the hell?!” Atsumu’s chair screeched as he pulled back and massaged at his shin. 

“Yer too noisy, ‘Tsumu. Have a little decency, will ya?”

“Huh?! Wha-”

“Boys!” their mother interjected.

Suna fought back his laughter but when he looked at their mother who massaged her temples more for dramatic flair than something he should worry about, she started smiling at him and they both laughed at the two.

When the food came in, Suna thought it looked good but at first bite, he stopped. So did Osamu, and they looked at each other.

“What?” Suna laughed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

Osamu was laughing too, “No, what? Why are _you_ laughing?”

Atsumu groaned a little too loudly that their mother even asked what was happening.

“‘Samu wanted to try and add this to the menu. It’s great, I just thought he thought he could do better than this. He’s probably thought of what to do already.” 

He looked at Osamu and smiled, “It’s going to be great. He’s amazing like that.”

Suna realized he probably said too much when only silence followed, he turned to his food.

When their mother agreed and Atsumu didn’t take a jab at him but only gave Osamu a look he didn’t recognize, he just continued eating.

Suna should have felt more uncomfortable but he really liked being there. It was easy. 

He found that he did miss Atsumu and he didn’t mind letting him get the last piece of fish, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let him do it so easily. 

Their mother’s presence still comforted him, he was however genuinely stressed at how much he wanted to impress her.

As for Osamu, he tried not to stare too much and pretended he didn’t feel his heat beside him as their chairs got closer. How and when it happened, he didn’t know.

Upon reaching dessert, Suna listened to their mother talk about how proud of the two men she was as if she’s pertaining to 7-year-olds, and he couldn’t agree more. It was when he heard a sharp inhale beside him that he whipped his head to Osamu to see him puffing up and teary and red-eyed.

Excusing himself from the conversation, Suna quickly grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out medication, and poured Osamu a glass of water before resuming talking to their mother.

Right after their meals, Suna insisted on going home. Osamu insisted that he walked Suna there.

“Thank you for earlier,” Osamu said.

“Hm?”

“The anti-allergy?”

“Oh. You’re welcome. I should have noticed earlier.” Suna stopped in front of Osamu, “look at me.”

He scanned Osamu’s face up close and started walking ahead. “It’s almost gone now. How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They walked in silence until they arrived at Suna’s apartment, Osamu noticed the light on.

“You have company?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He answered in a laughing tone.

When they entered, Suna greeted a pile of blankets by the floor, or at least one would think it was.

“Hey! I told you to not stay up. Did you eat?”

A lady, well, almost lady took the blanket off of her head and turned to Suna, already rolling her familiar-looking eyes.

When she saw Osamu, her eyes opened wide and she rushed to hug him. “‘Samu! Happy Birthday!”

Suna feigned offense, “I’m right here”. He walked straight to the kitchen anyway and didn’t miss how Osamu looked at him.

The same way Suna went on overnights in the Miya household from time to time, they’d go to Suna’s place as well and they all grew fond of the complete opposite sister of Suna. One would think they weren’t siblings if not for the same beautiful eyes and the possibly hereditary urge to roll their eyes.

Among their classmates, Osamu and Michiko were the closest to each other, setting aside the fact that Michiko had the biggest crush on Osamu back when they were in high school, but suddenly switched to Atsumu - heck if Suna knew why. 

There was a time when Suna and all his family were stuck in Tokyo and had to attend something important that they couldn’t skip and Michiko had a competition that she absolutely had to go to. Suna was practically pulling on his hair when Osamu pried his hand away from his face and said he’d do it. _I’m free that day anyway_. He tried to stop Osamu from this as it was too much of a trouble but when he said Michiko was family, he hadn’t been able to retort anything even if he wanted to.

He wasn’t sure if he regretted agreeing as Osamu sent him the video from the competition later on and saw photos of the two together on Instagram and sent through private chats. When he got to the phone with Michiko, she gushed over Osamu and agreed, there was no foreseeable end to the call until Osamu called on the other line, only for him to say how proud he was of his sister. To Suna’s both suffering and (mostly) delight, it wasn’t the first and last.

They were close-knit but when Suna and Osamu stopped talking, they seemed to have parted as well, so he understood her excitement.

“You didn’t tell me she’s staying with you. You could have just brought her too.” They moved to the couch in front of the TV.

“And have her yap with Atsumu? No thanks”

“Atsumu was there too?!”

“They’re twins, genius.”

Suna was still putting stuff in the fridge when Michiko crossed her arms and raised a brow to his brother, “He said you could have brought me with you.”

“He knows you’re the Suna we prefer.” 

Right after Osamu spoke, Suna locked his eyes on him and squinted, his lips turned up in a smirk. Osamu looked back at him with that soft smile and Suna swore his heart just stopped. “Wow,” he said in the most offended tone he could muster.

They shared the smile a second longer and Suna shook his head.

When Osamu tore his eyes from Suna’s, he caught a glimpse of the clock and turned to Michiko.

“Why are you still up? It’s late.”

Before she could answer, Suna’s phone rang and he went out the balcony excitedly with a smile on his face after seeing the caller ID.

Osamu’s face scrunched up at this, only to find Michiko looking at him.

“You’re old,” she said.

“Hey.”

“You should just ask him.”

Michiko took his lack of response as a sign to continue, she turned back to her phone and sighed. He wished he had spoken before she did.

“Say ‘Samu, why did you stop calling him?”

He hoped she didn’t pick up the change in his breathing.

**–––––**

There was one more year left before Osamu graduated from college when Atsumu finally succeeded in arranging, or rather pestered, their old teammates to gather and meet up for a weekend.

“Where’s Suna?”

Osamu answered Gin as if the question was directed at him. “He’ll be late, but he said he’ll come.”

Atsumu jumped on the right side of the bed with all the sweat he’d gathered from their impromptu match earlier. 

Osamu hit him with a towel, “Yer dirty.”

Atsumu soothed his leg and finally remembered that he wouldn’t be sharing the room with his twin that night. He clicked his tongue when he remembered who would be. “Protect yer precious bed sheet all ya want but how about ya grow some balls and actually date Suna, huh?”

Osamu glared at his brother, and Gin, being the sweet child he was, asked, “Wait. You guys aren’t?”

“Tch. They’d fuck tonight and he’d still lose sleep thinking if Suna likes him.” 

A pillow flew aimed at Atsumu’s head before he could say anything else.

He hated that Atsumu wasn’t entirely wrong.

It was no secret how close he and Suna had gotten all those years, but somehow they never took that step nor have they talked about it. Yet, he was sure that they both thought about it constantly whenever they would sit too close or stare at each other for too long.

Osamu had definitely thought about it, maybe a little too much.

He and Suna had learned so much about each other and saying they were compatible was an understatement. However it didn’t erase the fact that they were a year away from finishing their degrees and although he was sure that he’d scrape whatever he’d got for a start-up after graduating, Suna was still undecided. 

Suna started playing at the collegiate level and whenever Osamu mentioned going pro to him, he’d just shrug. Osamu didn’t miss the way that Suna always started changing the conversation and never made eye contact with him. There had been teams scouting him and even if he wasn’t hopelessly admiring Suna, he knew that he’d do well. And in a way, it scared him because he knew how amazing Suna was. He could do anything if he’d set his heart to do it, bless that man, he was so lazy.

Osamu had always been proud of his decision and he would work hard to make it work but he knew that when Suna would go pro, there’d be people who’d best suit him, and the fact that it could take him anywhere only worsened it. He never dared to mention it for many reasons but Osamu mostly dreaded the idea that he’d be the one to hold Suna back. And there was his own future too.

Even if Suna chose to not go pro, he couldn’t dismiss the idea that kicking off a start-up will not be an easy task. They were fine with the bare minimum before, thriving on it even, but once they’d step over that line, with life inevitably catching up to them, not having each other at arm’s length, would what they used to have even be enough?

His phone vibrated from the bedside table.

 **From:** Rin  
“omw, be there before mn”

 **From:** Rin  
“doll up ;)”

He felt heat rush through his body and it was a little embarrassing since this was something that they always go about but it still had the same effect on him than the first time Suna did it. 

They’d always had this back and forth, flirting through text messages but never getting far. At times, he’d be the one to tease him. If Suna replied, good and well. And if he didn’t, then that was just about it.

It was in these moments that even he doubted himself. How could he stand tall and take on any flirting Suna would do in person but would melt when he’d send a semi-innocent message like this. 

**From:** Rin  
“see you”

_I can’t wait._

**To:** Rin  
“drive safe see you”

Osamu’s mind wandered until way past dinner where he constantly dug to scratch his eyes with the heels of his palm and protected his ribs when Atsumu would elbow him back to the conversation. 

He breathed heavier as the night progressed as he continued to think more about the few times he just wanted to say it, to chase the lost semi-accidental touches, the eyes that lingered - but he always found himself just stretching out whatever they had as long as he could. 

He constantly told himself he was fine with what they had, that they didn’t have to complicate it. He repeated time and time again, still attempting to make himself believe that he didn’t want to stop stealing kisses on his forehead when they were asleep on the bus or the train and to do it when they were both wide awake instead, have him lie on his lap shamelessly as they’d read a book or watch a movie, or dance to stupid songs. 

He’d pry Suna’s hands away from his face when he’d scratch his cheek with his thumb, a habit he does to stop himself from crying, even if he looked absolutely adorable with his red nose, but mostly because he wants to let him know that he can be weak with him. He wanted to cook pancakes side by side in the morning, visit each other’s families for the holidays, and fall asleep next to him without feeling ashamed when he’d want to reach out and stay in the crook of his neck, to breathe him and only get out of bed because they’d have to go to work. 

_Work._

His mind decided to betray him and leave his fantasies and circle back to what different work would mean to them in a few years’ time.

They were good, great even, as friends but as partners? What would happen if they’d get into a real fight? Something that couldn’t be solved by a jelly pop or a jab on the shoulder, or even just shrugging it off. What if this time when Suna cried, it was because of him? What if he got hurt and he couldn’t run to his best friend for he was the reason behind the pain.

But if he didn’t take a step, he had to come up with a different way to try and not lose his cool. He was not usually the jealous type, but he couldn’t hide the urge to throw a cross at someone who’d stand a little too close to Suna or when a classmate was too close for comfort in a photo.

Osamu planned to be the first one to meet Suna when he arrived, but he didn’t plan for him to be wheezing with puffy red eyes and swollen cheeks.

He heard Kita and Omimi discussing who could bring him to the hospital and then he heard Suna’s stern voice claiming the task.

He only caught the silhouette of the person walking towards him but based on his posture, his gait, and his scent, it was unmistakably and definitely Suna. And _god_ , he missed him.

“What happened to ‘see you’”?” Suna said, but there was no real bite to it. He brushed the hair off of Osamu’s forehead before positioning himself to try and assist Osamu to walk.

The growing numbness on Osamu’s body was not enough to not feel the radiating warmth of Suna’s skin on his side and arm.

“Let’s get you fixed up.”

Osamu didn’t remember much until he got to the hospital and the familiar smell of Suna was close to him, his jacket hugging him.

There was the humming of the air conditioner, the chatter at the nurse’s station, and another patient on the other side of the curtain. 

At the foot of the bed was a stool where Suna was seated, his head lolled to the side and his now longer hair rested on his shoulders. His hands were tucked onto his pits and his legs were pressed together. Osamu meant to sit up and give the jacket back only to realize that he was still a bit sedated and couldn't get up properly.

Suna jolted awake and shivered. He stretched his legs and yawned before finally turning and rolling the stool closer to Osamu.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I’m better, thanks,” Osamu offered the jacket and Suna only waved his hand to decline. “What time is it?”

“Around 2, 1? Why?”

Osamu lazily pawed at his pockets and grunted when he couldn't seem to find whatever it was he needed. 

Suna pulled out Osamu’s phone from his own back pocket and shook it, “It’s dead, but I already told ‘Tsumu and Miya-san that you’re okay.”

For all the times he teased Suna for hitting something while out walking, he had always been mindful of what he needed without him asking, always thinking or doing what Osamu intended to do before he could.

It was always like this with Suna. And for the first time in a long time, Osamu wasn’t afraid to admit that he wanted nothing more than to do the same for him and be with him tomorrow, the next week, or the rest of his life.

He could already feel Suna’s cold hands squeezing his own when he realized he had reached out to Suna.

“They said we can get you discharged when you’re feeling better, just tell me and we’ll go.”

Osamu looked at Suna and remembered his stories about his college team captain whipping him in their practices and how it had been taxing for him. Suna would say he’s “so fucking ugly now” and Osamu would answer, “wait, you weren’t before?” They would go through this back and forth every time but they both knew the truth.

At the back of his mind, he wondered if Suna had been taking care of himself. He also wondered if he could be the one taking care of him.

Osamu found that there really were bags under Suna’s eyes and his lips were a bit chapped but when he smiled so softly at him, with so much warmth in his deep voice, all he could think of was how beautiful he still looked.

“‘Samu?” Suna squeezed his hand, “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Just tell me when you’re ready or if you want to stay longer, no rush.”

Osamu squeezed back, “Okay.”

It was almost 4 when they got back to the lounge and headed to their room. 

Osamu’s mind was mostly clear from the medicine when they got back to their room but he still needed Suna right next to him when he wobbled in his steps.

The only lights that illuminated the room were the moonlight peeking through the curtains and the light from the bathroom, escaping from the slightly ajar door. 

Suna closed the bathroom lights and checked Osamu’s phone charging by the bedside table before sitting on his leg on his side of the bed. He tapped his own phone open and plopped it down to tie his hair up unceremoniously. 

Osamu felt like he sunk deeper into the bed just looking at how the soft light from the phone’s screen hit Suna’s pale cheeks and how the stray hair that fell in front of his eyes looked like they purposefully fell into place to frame his face.

He remembered how many times he had seen Suna in the plainest clothing and he still thought of putting him up on a pedestal to show the world. He looked at Suna’s face again, and he wondered how true his stories were about how stressful college was - if anything, Suna looked even more gorgeous. The light furrowing of his brows and his sharp nose down to his cupid’s bow and his thin and rose lips were enticing and perfect. 

Osamu licked his drying lips and swallowed hard. He almost choked when he found piercing jade eyes already on him.

“What?” Suna’s head tilted a little at him, his phone slack on his hand, and he was laughing.

Osamu felt his heart clench at the rare sound. Their lower classmen were intimidated by the middle blocker not just for the way he looked but how cold and sarcastic he could be. He’d laugh at the demise of others like he was paid to do it but it was devoid of the sweetness that this laugh was overflowing with. 

The glint on Suna’s eyes and the smile, the one that was only for him to witness, was so endearing that Osamu could cry. He could look at Suna forever.

“What?” Suna repeated and placed his phone down. When Osamu only looked at him and didn’t respond, he inched closer and frowned. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Osamu motioned to sit up and Suna was quick to close in and assist him, a strong arm wrapping behind his back to position him to sit up straight and another at the small of his back. Osamu could get lost in the scent of having Suna this close, regretting when he let him go. He was thankful that Suna did not go too far though, ending up with Suna’s knee on top of his leg, facing with a now deepening frown.

Osamu still kept his mouth on a line and searched Suna’s face as if he didn't already dreamt of it yet. He poked a finger at the fury between his thin brows that obeyed like magic. 

Though he didn’t see it, he knew that Suna’s gaze was on his every move. He knew how it felt on his skin, knew it like the back of his hand.

He slid down his finger on the bridge up to the tip of his nose, down to his bow, and touched lightly, barely, on the top of his lips. He watched Suna’s eyes slowly close. 

This stillness and quiet was nothing new, with only the sound of distant merriment and the light of the moon. Behind closed doors they did it all the time; they’d jump back and forth the line as if it was a game as if it wasn’t something that could break them.

His finger left Suna’s lips and he gingerly swept the hair off of his face. As he trailed his hand up Suna’s nape, his fingers slightly tangling at the roots of his hair, he watched Suna shiver to his touch. 

He cupped Suna’s face and wondered how could one be _so fucking beautiful._

His eyes locked on parted lips he could no longer count the times he had stared for far too long. As he held the man he longed for in his hands, he wondered about many things as he inched closer, his eyes slowly closing.

There were many times before just like this: one more step across the line and they’d be something else other than two people lost, coasting and going through the longest float in uncertainty. What would follow however was a vaster, more dangerous realm.

Their lips met in a slow, chaste kiss. Suddenly, at that moment, with the ghosts of their breaths still on their lips, whatever followed didn’t matter anymore.

Osamu touched Suna’s bottom lip and tugged it down and slotted their lips together, eliciting a gasp from Suna.

Their hands, instead of roaming only motioned to pull the other closer, to feel each other in their skin. Their brows furrowed, wanting nothing but the other. Suna clawed at the back of Osamu’s shirt and pulled him closer, deepening their kiss, only to pull him back and chase his breath. His hand rested on Osamu’s waists.

“‘Samu,” it was so quiet it could have been a whisper but he loved hearing his name in Suna’s voice all the same. His eyes were still closed and his flushed lips were parted. He swallowed hard before opening his eyes slightly.

Osamu still couldn’t get enough of how captivating Suna’s eyes were, but he didn’t miss how they were glassy and waited for him to continue.

“You’re literally on drugs,“ Suna laughed but if Osamu didn’t know better, he’d completely miss his lips trembling, and the tightening on Suna’s grip on his shirt. _Are you sure?_

It was both a blessing and a curse that he could identify even the slightest change in Suna and how much Suna had entrusted his vulnerability to him. 

It was not like he hadn’t thought of this before, a hundred times even. They still had their lives ahead of them and they both knew they had to go their separate paths again and move forward to their _separate_ futures. But right now, in this light, in this time, with them finally this close to each other, he could do nothing but pull Suna close by his elbow and kiss slowly. Their lips lingered as Suna followed when Osamu pulled away to look at him, “Your point?”

Osamu untangled Suna’s hair from the tie and watched it fall on his shoulders. “Your hair’s getting longer,” he said, combing through his hair and gently curling his fingers on them, tangling the ends on his fingertips, and resting his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t tie it up.”

Suna took Osamu’s hand from his hair and brought it close to his lips and kissed his palm, gingerly, tenderly, before holding it to his cheek.

His eyes were still filled with the same question, “‘Samu,” he pleaded.

In lieu of an answer, Osamu slowly leaned forward and laid Suna on his back, one hand on his wrist as he hovered over him. Suna looked up at him, scanning his face, and he could feel Suna’s pulse on his hand beating frantically.

Osamu could feel his emotions bubbling up and he didn’t know where to put it. It escaped his mouth before he could understand all that came along with it, “I love you.”

Suna chuckled, the same time he started tearing up. “I love you, too,” he said in between his laughter and tears before pulling Osamu down for another kiss and rolling him over.

Osamu’s mind was racing but right now there were no questions to dwell on, only him, Suna, and this moment.

When Osamu woke up, the bed beside him was cold. Either Suna did not go to sleep or he woke up early, he vouched for the first one. 

The moment consciousness returned to him, all the dread and questions that were pushed down the night before decided to come up to the surface. His body tensed up. 

_“You fucking idiot. What the fuck did you just do?”_

He sat up straight and pulled on his hair, trying to rationalize everything. He was deep into the rabbit hole when he remembered: did he tell Suna he loved him? And did Suna just... say it back? 

A small smile grew on his lips when he remembered how it sounded. He realized he wanted to hear it again and again for the rest of his life. He pictured a future where he’s old and gray and Suna is right there beside him, as wrinkly and as old, but still as beautiful in his eyes. 

It’s _them_. They should work, right? And Suna didn’t push him away, right? His hand slacked on his hair but the tension returned more greatly when he realized how much he wanted this, how much hunger grew within him to make it happen, _no matter what._

The reality was that, after today, they had to head back to their own cities, finish university and take on the real world. In a few hours they would, once again, have 425 kilometres in between them. And in a few years, who knows how many more, how much farther they would be?

What was he thinking? What the fuck was he thinking? This wasn’t some movie where they’d kiss and everything would suddenly work out together - the store, the v. league or whatever Suna decides on, the distance, the time, everything.

But Suna loved him back, that’s not something he cannot let pass. But with that realization, another wave of troubles came to him.

What if like him, it was also just brought upon the influence of the lack of sleep and better judgment, and Suna was only influenced by what he said? 

Maybe it could work. They managed to stay in touch all these years, and nothing much will have to change. Except he also knew that was impossible, for at the same time he thought of how much he expected from Suna at this very moment, he also hated the part of him that agreed that Suna might not be able to deliver.

What did he have to do? Pretend like nothing happened? That was such a shit excuse. He couldn’t, he didn’t want to lose him.

Osamu pulls tighter on his hair.

_Fuck, I’m gonna lose him._

But there was a chance that it would work, right? But what if Suna resented him. What if years into their marriage he’d realize he was not happy at all and they were fine just staying friends and he ruined it all. He knew Suna wouldn’t say it but it’d kill him if he knew that was what was going at the back of his mind. Osamu didn’t want to lose him.

Osamu thought of a hundred ways he could lose the man he longed for, for so long and in panic, ran out of the room to escape his thoughts only for his dread and dreams to materialize in front of his eyes donning the sweetest smile, a plateful of breakfast in hand, and the brightest and most hopeful green eyes.

There were only a few things that Osamu regretted, to this day he could count them on his fingers. This always came on top.

“I was pretty out of it yesterday, didn’t do anything funny, did I?”

He laughed but he himself knew how dry it sounded. His head started throbbing loudly and he felt his chest tighten and burn at how much he wanted to turn back time just a few seconds just to take it all back. 

It was nothing, however, compared to what followed.

Just as Suna could read what he needed before Osamu would say it, he also could recognize the waver in Osamu’s voice when he was lying.

The team greeted Osamu good morning and elbowed Suna and thanked him for helping with the breakfast preparation but they both just stood there and Osamu could not forget, even if it probably was a moment, how painful it was to watch the light in Suna’s eyes vanish and his smile falter. 

He feared to see Suna cry and he wanted to take it back the moment the words left his mouth but what hurt more was the split-second where Suna’s jaw clenched and his lips quivered before he turned his back on him.

“Nah. You were fine.”

There was no sadness, not even anger. Just indifference.

The day went on as peacefully as possible, but the turmoil raged within Osamu. He wanted to talk to Suna, to fix what he had fucked up so badly, but in the entirety of the day, Suna never left Gin, or Atsumu’s side and Osamu caught him scratching his cheek for more times than his guilt can take. 

He got to be alone with Suna by the end of it but in that short amount of time, Suna spoke overly kind to him and had put on a smile that was so forced it was physically painful to look at.

He watched Suna walk away that day and he wasn’t sure if he was thankful that he didn’t look at him in the eye lest he broke down.

The moment Osamu reached home, he started messaging and calling Suna on every possible platform. Suna however only responded to queries, never going past what was needed. 

Each time Suna would pick up, Osamu was filled with the hope of a chance to fix it all but turned out it could get worse. With just one line, filled with so much anger he’s never heard before, all traces of hope were taken away from him.

“What do you want, Miya?”

_Just, you._

_I didn’t want to lose you._

_But somehow, I still did._

The line clicked. Nothing said. Nothing changed. Nothing followed.

Osamu wanted to take everything back. 

He wanted to talk to Suna about it all and explain everything. 

He wanted to fix it. 

He wanted to tell him he loved him.

He never did.

But even if he had done it, he knew that the same issues would still be there. So maybe that was why even with Atsumu baiting him into meeting Suna every chance he gets, Osamu ends up running away every time. Maybe from fear, maybe from shame.

He was afraid of them getting together, burning themselves out by trying too hard to make it work, and resenting each other in the end.

But he watched him from a distance, watched every game he played on tape. He followed him on social media and clung to the smallest glimpses of what Suna had been up to, who he was with, if he was happy, if he was okay.

At some point, he realized that maybe, deep in his heart, he wasn’t really ready and his tongue just saved both of them the trouble.

After three years, Osamu punched someone one night but he didn’t know it was going to hurt him more. Sure, he was punched back too but seeing Suna after all those years, finally, in the flesh and that close made him short-circuit. 

He started off with an apology hoping that would do.

He tried to keep his cool as they took a walk to the nearest convenience store to get anything cold and he wanted to pat himself in the back for not breaking in the first minute. 

Suna looked different but he was still Suna. He still laughed so shamelessly, and he loved that - he had always loved it, but even more now, after losing it. He wanted to hold out a hand and reach out and ask then and there if they could try again. Osamu was desperate but there was something with Suna, in the way he leaned on his arm watching him skip stones accompanied by the occasional “Nice”. 

Osamu thought, this should be enough.

It wasn’t enough.

“What the fuck happened?” Atsumu shot up straight from where he lay on Osamu’s couch and turned to the blooming purple on his twin’s face.

“What?”

“Yer face”

“Oh,” Osamu smiled, and only then did he remember that the bruise was there. “I met Suna.”

“What?! Are ya serious?”

Osamu poured himself a glass of water from his fridge and motioned Atsumu to scooch over so they’d fit in the couch.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “He punched me”

“You deserved it.”

Osamu took a long sip and stared at nothing in particular. “I punched him first.”

“You asshole.”

“‘T was an accident.”

Atsumu blinked blearily and smiled, he hummed.

“What?”

“Ya look happy.”

“Shut up.”

After a while, Atsumu looked at him with a seriousness he only showed when he was playing volleyball.

“What are ya going to do?”

Osamu pretended to not hear his question. He was thankful that Atsumu understood.

That night, Osamu couldn’t sleep. After tossing and turning in his bed, and clicking his phone on and off for the nth time, he unlocked it, sent a text and shoved it under his pillow.

A chance. All he wanted, no, needed was a chance.

_“Are you free to meet up after work?”_

If Suna replied good and well. If he didn’t, well he’d just ask for forgiveness when he’d stand in front of his office lobby.

It still took him an hour to fall asleep after he got Suna’s reply. 

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Relief welled in his chest when he saw Suna approaching the station platform - relief and gladness brought upon just seeing that he actually came, that he was right there in all his glory, walking towards him. 

Osamu wanted to run and meet him halfway with arms wide open and breathe him in his arms, but he settled on waving.

The whole time they were there, Osamu tried to calm his heart as he remembered the last time he saw Suna this close. He was probably taller now but his slouch got worse. He stopped himself from trying to straighten his back with his thumbs like he usually did back then. 

Osamu listened to Suna laugh and talk about his work. He trusted his memory reminding him that this was how Suna laughed when he was being real. He sounded genuinely happy with where he was now. With that, Osamu wondered if they could have made it work all this time. 

On the train ride, Suna fell asleep and his head lolled. He fought the urge to coax him to rest on his shoulder and he was so near, he could drown in his scent. It pained him how it wasn’t the same as the one he remembered from before but it was still Suna’s, and he found that he was already holding on to it.

He immediately caught Suna’s bag when it slipped off of his lap only to be surprised at how heavy it was. He thought to place it back on Suna’s lap but settled on putting it on his own. He felt like a kid when he hugged it close to him and tried to catch the same scent if only a little.

When they were near, Osamu wanted to brush his knuckles on Suna’s cheeks, the way he always used to wake him up but settled on tapping his arm. 

He watched Suna frantically rummage at his bag and held his arm as he guided them out of the station. His breath hitched when he saw the camera he had loved and hated all those years. He hated it only because it was always in the middle of them and loved it because it was the only time he could smile so genuinely at Suna, face to face without him breaking. He remembered the times he’d purposely mess up the settings - when he’s spent nights trying to understand it so he could relate to Suna - so Suna would take it from his hands and they’d be as close as possible, loving the way their hands would brush a little more than usual. Suna could easily be a meme with his odd poses when taking photos but the small tug at his lips and the minute rise in his brow when he found a shot interesting, the perfect combination of contentment and smugness, will never fail to make Osamu weak in the knees.

When they were about to part that day, though his mind should have been bustling with the business that awaited him tomorrow, he thought about seeing Suna again the next day. He waved, like the coward he was, when all he wanted was to hug him again. But he felt something build up in his chest and rattling to escape his mouth. Maybe, just as it did before, his tongue was going to save them both the trouble. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

He got scared when he saw Suna’s unresponsiveness and the sullenness in his face that, if Osamu didn’t know better, he would have thought Suna was just bored. 

He walked briskly towards Suna, mentally calming the erratic beating of his heart, and stopped just right in front of him. _Man,_ he was a lot taller now, and his dark hair - Osamu really wanted to touch them again.

He laughed at how whipped he still was after all those years but thankfully, he’s a little bolder and braver now. Right?

“I said, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

_Nope. Still a coward._

When Suna agreed, he was already messaging his assistant manager about his plans. 

The next day, he left early and walked in the heat to get to the station, intending to arrive first to wait for Suna. He wanted to prepare himself better to ask him for another chance, but when he saw Suna already standing on the platform, he immediately ran to him and his thoughts went down the drain.

As he wiped his sweat with Suna’s towel, he almost forgot how he got it in his hands in the first place. He couldn’t stop thinking of Suna taking care of him even back in high school, in his own way; throwing a towel at his face, sometimes a bottle, getting him an onigiri he didn’t ask for, sending him funny videos at hell o’clock in the morning when they were both sleepy and cramming, sending songs they listened and joked about slow dancing to once they get the time, or sending Suna family’s recipes he said he liked and wanted to try. All of this without having to ask.

“You promise?” a scoff, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Osamu’s breath hitched at Suna’s remark when he promised to return the towel. He deserved that. 

He could simply back out right then and there. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“It’s fine. I’ll wash it.”

He took one step closer - maybe a little too close - to Suna and dared himself to stop running away. It was fine until Suna stepped away. Osamu backed away too, realizing maybe that was too much too fast.

When Osamu got hold of the old camera again, its grip familiar in his hands, and pointed it at Suna, Osamu watched his little movements and he was, just like many times before, enamoured. 

He put the camera down and stared directly at Suna.

_You’re beautiful._

_Let’s give it another shot._

_I’m still in love with you._

He opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips when the train arrived.

He wanted to hit himself for his hesitation but he’d just try again, and again and again until the only words leaving his mouth are what he truly desires and mean to say, sincere and unbarred.

For the next months, every time they were together he wanted to tell him but the lingering thought that maybe all Suna wanted was just to be friends again didn’t die down in his mind. He was so sure that was it until he caught a glimpse of a photograph in Suna’s hand, a photograph that resembled the one that sat in his wallet ever since he got it, two black shapes by the beach, the sun setting behind it. He thought maybe. Just maybe.

At times, he’d get too close and he’d wonder if that was okay. Not because Suna let him be in his space again, that didn’t mean he had been absolved, but he thought about the times Suna would remind him where he had last placed his wallet, times when Suna would disagree with his ideas that his colleagues would usually just say yes to or even how Suna bonded so perfectly with their mother when she was very picky with people. The things he usually did before they fell out, he picked up as if nothing had ever come in between. 

The cherry on top was an anti-allergy pill. It was stupid, but he couldn’t wave off the thought of this. How Atsumu looked at him as he bit back his cheeks, wanting to cry. 

Why was Suna like this? Why, even after all those years? 

Maybe it was only by chance. But Osamu was thankful nonetheless. He did only ask for a chance.

**–––––**

The click of the door snapped Osamu back to the present. The smile was still on Suna’s lips and Osamu scowled, facing away from him lest his expressions be questioned.

Osamu wasn’t really the possessive type and he’s not gonna lie, as much as he loves Suna’s straight face, seeing his smile does things to his heart and he now knows more than ever that he really wants to be the reason, at least 50, no 70 percent of the time, behind it.

Suna’s smile faded when he faced his sister, “why are you still up?”

“Rin, it’s the weekend tomorrow,” Michiko whined and Osamu could almost see the cogs in her mind whirring when she gave him a side-eye. “Maybe Osamu can stay over too? It’s getting pretty late, you know.”

“He’s got work tomorrow.”

Osamu chuckled at Michiko’s whining but Suna was right. He still had work tomorrow. He meant to leave soon but he didn’t expect to see Suna leaning by the kitchen counter, looking right at him. While some would see nothing more from this gesture, Osamu saw the littlest cock of his eyebrow. He hoped this meant he wanted a different answer, too.

“I’ll just leave early in the morning.”

“Nice!” 

Michiko ran to set up the console and shoved the spare controller on Osamu’s hand. 

“Rin won’t play tonight. You won’t play, right? Yup, he won’t play. We’re good.” She squinted at her brother before plopping herself at the foot of the couch. 

When Osamu looked at the brother in question, his face warmed up seeing how tenderly he was looking at them, but he felt a slight heaviness in his chest and remembered how he could have had this before if only he had been braver. 

He shook his head. That was why he was here now. To witness this one and the next thousands after.

Osamu and Michiko played most of the night on the floor while Suna sat at the couch watching them, occasionally swiping the controller from his fuming sister when she’d lose and shit talk about Osamu. Osamu, literally born ready to bite back, was always quick to retort. 

This, Osamu thought, if anyone asked, was only one of the many forms of what loving Suna Rintarou, in all of his being, entailed.

He wanted this. More and more of this. 

He asked himself, looked for any uncertainty that remained in him. All he found was the fear that Suna would not forgive him, but he resolved to wait and stay there until Suna would want him.

It sounded like a great plan until Atsumu’s voice rang in his head.

_“What are you going to do?”_

It annoyed him how the voice of his rational conscience was his twin brother’s. 

He scoffed, what was he doing, indeed. 

Waiting won’t get him anywhere, three long years was enough. 

Suna eventually fell asleep skewed on the arm of the couch. Osamu was supposed to wake him up to rest properly in bed but Michiko tugged at his arm, saying his brother had only started getting some decent sleep these days, he was fine.

Osamu positioned Suna better on the couch albeit his feet dangled on the other end before putting a blanket over him and sitting beside him. He listened to Suna’s faint and peaceful snores and backed away when he shifted and turned to his side.

“He talks a lot about you, you know. It’s kinda annoying.” Osamu felt a little bit embarrassed feeling like a teenager getting caught sneaking on a crush. 

Osamu watched Michiko press on Suna’s phone and soon he was facing a gallery of his own face. There were photos of him sleeping on the train, standing in the station, behind the counter, and one photo of his back with the sky changing its hue as the background. He didn't even remember when all of them were taken. 

Before he could wrap his head around it, the screen was already being taken away and he was now faced with a smaller but very familiar glare from jade eyes.

“He’s a lot happier these days. Hurt him again and I’ll hurt you.” 

Osamu noted her tensed jaws and how there was more concern than poison in her tone.

Michiko probably saw it all. She probably saw how close they once were, maybe even saw through his expressions and growing fondness whenever they’d be over at the Suna household, or when he’d come with during her competitions and she’d bring her brother’s name into the conversation any chance she gets - looking at it now, she must have been baiting him. Sly fox.

Osamu looked at her again and gathered, _she definitely saw and had been there for the fallout too._

“I won’t,” he poked a finger where Michiko’s brows met, “and stop that, you’ll get wrinkles. Go to bed.” 

Michiko squinted at Osamu until she disappeared into her room and only then did he look again at Suna. 

_This time, I won’t._

He was still as beautiful as he remembered. The temptation to brush the hair away from his face rushed through him.

At any given time, he would have let it go and settled with just looking. This time, he gave in. 

He brushed the hair from Suna’s face and if he stayed beside him for longer than necessary, nobody needed to know.

**–––––**

The shop was closed for the day and Osamu decided to invite Suna over early in the morning. 

Suna stood inside the counter while Osamu sat on the other side because “he wanted to experience what his customers feel like.” He rested his chin on his knuckle and eyed the onigiri that sat on a plate in front of him.

The first time he invited Suna over the weekend, he asked him to help with the fillings. He grumbled, saying he was supposed to be a guest, but just minutes after, he was hunched over the counter trying to make an onigiri himself. 

He remembered looking at the horror that was the supposed onigiri, courtesy of Suna. 

_“Yer wasting the rice!”_

_“Teach me better next time then.”_

Looking at the one in front of him again, he noted that it was compact, and not overly big or small. It was presented nicely, too, the seaweed folded over just so and the salmon on top. He’d think someone else had made them if he didn’t watch Suna start the next one.

Suna wet and rubbed salt in his palms and started to press and toss the rice in angled palms. 

It was such a simple deed, a simple food too but this was what Osamu loved doing the most, and the concentration and care that Suna gave as he wrapped the seaweed and put the salmon on top filled Osamu’s chest with warmth. 

“I should hire ya,” Osamu said.

Suna scoffed, plating the finished onigiri, “Ya can’t afford me.”

“I’ll pay double of what yer receiving.”

Suna cocked an eyebrow at him. “Triple, or I go,” he said and proceeded to wet his hands again, not breaking eye contact. 

Osamu let out a breathy laugh and so did Suna. He went inside the counter, washed his hands, and hovered behind Suna.

When he hadn’t spoken for a few seconds, Suna turned to him, “What?”

Osamu blinked and looked at green eyes waiting, “That’s too much filling.”

Suna let his hand fall on the table and glared at Osamu, “There’s no pleasing ya is there?”

Osamu shrugged, “Not when yer asking for triple,” he started reaching for Suna’s hand, “that’s too much.”

Suna shielded his onigiri with his elbow and back from Osamu, the both of them already laughing, “I got it! I got it! Go make yer own!”

Come afternoon, they went for a walk outside. The sky was bright that morning and the forecast did not show any signs of heavy pour but the rain that fell heavily on their heads and skin were unmistakable.

It was not a secret that even though both Atsumu and Osamu were from the same tree, Osamu was the quieter one, but as he ran in the rain, giggling and chasing after Suna, trying to find shelter under the bus stop, he wasn’t very quiet. And so was Suna. 

If the younger him would see two grown men chasing each other and laughing in the rain, he’d have scoffed. 

If it was his teenage self, he’d want no one else beside him than Suna to do it. 

In the present, with wet clothes, wet shoes, and dripping hair, he looked at the raindrops clumping on Suna’s lashes as he wiped the ones on his own, he had never been more sure.

Suna swiped the hair off of his own face and looked at Osamu with a smirk, “race ya.”

Once more, Suna ran. This time, he followed.

They headed to Osamu’s place, and he was drying his hair when Suna walked out of the bathroom wearing his shirt, a towel on his head. They were about the same size with Suna just taller by a few centimeters but he really liked seeing him in his clothes. Not that they haven’t done it countless times before when they were in high school.

Suna would be quick to pull out his shirt from the dresser and wear them, and he’d take it off quicker when he’d tell him ‘ _That’s Tsumu’s’_ while trying to keep the straightest face he could.

Osamu sat next to Suna, by the corner, his head tipped back against the wall. 

It was nothing special, really. 

There was nothing special with them sitting next to each other while the rain poured outside and the silent humming of the heater filling the room.

Osamu didn’t feel any giddiness.

What he felt was a relief - relief from the comfort he had almost forgotten and only remembered one night by the river. 

This moment was everything and he’d be okay with this being his every day. He’d be okay to come home to this again and again. He wouldn’t mind the lack of fireworks and blaring music. He’d have Suna.

He watched the peace on Suna’s face. His closed eyes and the minimal fluttering of his lashes left him entranced. 

He let out a breathy chuckle.

Suna opened his eyes a little to turn to him, “what?”

“I punched ya.”

“Yeah,” Suna chuckled, “Yeah, ya did.”

Osamu opened his mouth to close it again.

_“What are you going to do?”_

Osamu inched closer to Suna and pulled the towel off of his head slowly and started patting his hair dry.

He felt Suna relax and lean on his shoulder while he focused on the task at hand.

The expression on Suna’s face 3 years ago never really left his mind but in time, he saw him smile again. And he hoped that it was because of him. He was grateful that Suna let him come this close to him again, but at the back of his head, he still wondered how he could atone for what he did.

Suna put up a facade with everyone but never with him. He was upfront with everything but one thing he left out was what he felt for him. And seeing Suna walk away and Osamu coming back and being accepted warmly as if he didn’t do anything wrong, provoked a hot and sharp pang in his chest.

Thinking back to all the times they’d been together since their first meeting at the bar, Osamu wondered, 

_“What are you going to do?”_

Osamu dropped the towel and pulled Suna closer in an embrace. He closed his eyes as he breathed him in, enjoying the smell of his shampoo mixed with his scent. It was new but wasn’t unwelcome. 

To his surprise, Suna wrapped his arms around his waist and shifted on where he leaned to settle on his neck as if it was a move he had memorized, and he hoped he would.

_“What are you going to do?”_

Osamu knew he was blurring the lines again but this time, as he took a deep breath, in the middle of the comfortable silence and warmth in his arms. He wouldn’t mind this going on forever.

He kissed the top of Suna’s head, hugging him and shutting his eyes tight, almost in prayer.

_“What are you going to do?”_

“Can you forgive me?”

Osamu didn't have to wait long for an answer and it was cold as ice, as cold as he deserved.

“No.”

His arms loosened around Suna.

Osamu’s eyesight was already getting blurry and he felt his whole body shiver. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from breaking apart.

Suna meant for his answer to be a harmless jab, just to annoy Osamu, he didn’t even know what he was talking about. He looked at Osamu with a teasing smile on his face. He must have expected laughter or any reaction, but it faded away in a snap when he saw Osamu sobbing quietly. 

In panic, Suna swept the hair out of Osamu’s forehead and held his face, his thumb grazing on his cheek “Hey. Hey. What’s wrong?”

Osamu knew he shouldn’t be the one crying with all he had done. He wanted to scream but he knew how weak and small his voice sounded when he called Suna’s name.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey. For what?”

Osamu only held and squeezed Suna’s hand. His eyes spoke of much unspoken remorse as more silent tears poured out, hoping it was enough for Suna to know what he meant.

It was enough. 

Suna clenched his jaw and froze altogether, mostly because of how much it must have hurt for Osamu to think that he resented him when all this time, all he wanted was not to get in his way of achieving his lifelong dreams.

Suna’s mind started whirring, he almost wanted to pretend that this was not happening and play it all off like it was nothing. They are doing okay. This was enough. Why was Osamu even mentioning this? Why was he trying to ruin him again? He was fine with the unknown, enjoying whatever was given to him no matter how small. 

But things have changed. They have changed. 

And this was Miya Osamu, the man he never stopped loving, taking this step for them.

He willed his mind to stop pretending that this was enough and it worked, until he remembered the pain he felt that day and the years that followed, heaven knows what he did to cope. He had to clench his fist to stop himself from sobbing from the pain that threatened to explode from his chest. 

Osamu was creating a much bigger name for himself and Suna knew he’d dread himself if he’d be the one to hold Osamu back.

Osamu’s heart was racing, mostly because of his anger towards himself especially when Suna scratched the side of his face again. He pulled Suna’s hands away and held both of them on his lap.

“We don’t have to mess this up,” Suna said. His smile wavering and his breath shaking. “You’ve still got a lot to do, you’ve got the new locations, new stuff for the menu, new-” he chuckled but there was no real life to it, “I’m good with what we have.”

“I’m not,” Osamu almost interrupted him. He hated how well Suna had always kept his tears, his feelings, at bay, even now. When he saw Suna’s lips quiver, he cursed himself for letting him go through this again. “You walked away and I let you. I got scared. I was stupid. I should have called you again. I should have followed you. I- I wanted to take it all back.”

His voice raised in frustration for his lack of better words, for his cowardice, for his weakness, for everything, every vexation he had for himself that he kept locked in his heart.

“Of course, I remember everything. It keeps playing in my head every damn time. I even fucking remember you charging my phone,” Osamu clenched his fist, squeezing Suna’s hand a little too hard, his anger slowly dying down. “God damnit. I remember how you looked when I said that shitty excuse too. I- no, please let me finish.”

Suna closed his mouth.

Osamu ran his fingers on his own hair and pulled on them.

“I didn’t want to hold you back. I didn’t want you to resent me. You’re- You’re amazing. You could do anything you wanted to do. And I didn’t want to lose you. But, I still did.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his hair tighter. His chest tightened. That wasn’t enough. Had he been in Suna’s place and this was the explanation he got after three full years, he wouldn’t have accepted it. 

But Suna wasn’t him.

Suna punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

 _I deserved that,_ Osamu thought, but that didn’t mean it didn’t _fucking_ hurt.

He rubbed where he had been hit and had a full-scowl on his face. He was seconds away from bursting when he saw Suna. 

His head was down and his shoulders and hands that laid uncurled and limp on his lap trembled. 

Osamu was supposed to say something when Suna lunged towards him and buried his face on Osamu’s chest. When he felt Suna’s arms wrap around his waist and he held him in return, the pain in his chest went away and the pain in his shoulder suddenly didn’t matter anymore. 

They stayed like that until Suna’s shaking stopped. 

He kissed the top of Suna’s head and looked around the room. 

It was small and lacking extravagance and nothing could be heard except for the sound of the downpour outside. 

And then he looked at Suna, the man who never left his mind ever since they met who now fitted his embrace like he was made to be in it. 

He smiled and peace washed over him.

It was perfect.

He didn’t deserve this. But he was thankful all the same.

“I’m sorry,” Suna said, muffled in Osamu’s chest, “for running away… But why now?”

Osamu gently brushed his thumb on Suna’s nape, wondering why as well. After a while, he answered, with utmost certainty, “I saw you and thought, ‘I can’t let you go again.’”

Suna stayed motionless on his chest. He took it as Suna’s way of giving him the chance to prove his resolve. 

He took a deep breath as if he had to unearth a distant past, and in his mind it was.

“After uni, I opened the store. It was good, you know? But it started growing faster than I knew how to handle, everything piled up on each other and somehow I forgot how to breathe. I wanted to talk to you so badly, but I knew I had already lost that privilege.”

Osamu felt Suna grip his shirt, he stroked his hair. Osamu sighed long.

“‘Tsumu was there. He’d drag me anywhere whenever he was out, for drinks, to his games,” he pulled Suna back and looked at him with the most exasperated eyes, “we even tried pottery.”

They both laughed and Suna settled on the crook of Osamu’s neck. They held each other before he continued.

“But we spent the night throwing rocks in a stupid river until morning and everything felt right, and I thought, this was it,” Osamu brushed his cheek on Suna’s hair once and hugged him closer, breathing him in. “This is what I really want.”

It was all fine until Osamu’s heartbeat banged loudly in his ears and the voices in his mind screamed that this was too good for him, that he didn’t deserve this. He felt his body grow cold and his hold on Suna loosening until the man in his arms shifted, hugged him tighter, and nuzzled at his neck.

He closed his eyes and focused on nothing but the weight and warmth of Suna on his body and the words he could never yet wanted to say ever since that night at the river left his mouth in a whisper - vulnerable and tender.

“Can we try again?”

He held his breath for what felt like an eternity until Suna murmured into his skin, “What if I get needy?”

Osamu wanted to burst out crying right then and there but he held it in. He steadied his breathing and tried to silence his sobs before speaking. And although his voice shook, he asked with absolute determination, “Are you ever needy?” 

Suna hummed and shrugged, “we don’t know.” 

“Then talk to me, and I’ll talk to you too.”

“What if I get passive?” Suna asked, his voice a little lighter.

Osamu spoke with a smile and a teasing lilt, his thumb stroking Suna’s waist, “When are you not passive?”

Suna huffed and Osamu loved the warmth it brought on his neck.

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while and Osamu was ready to answer and give anything else he’d ever ask.

After a good minute, Suna pulled away and looked up to Osamu with much seriousness in his eyes.

“What if we fight? Who will I run to?”

A short pause, then in unison, “‘Tsumu,” and they both laughed.

Osamu watched Suna laugh with his whole body. It doesn’t usually happen but when it does, he gets more and more certain that no wonder of the world can ever compete with this sight.

And that he’d want to see this forever.

“Suna?”

“Hm?” his laughter slowly mellowing down but still on his lips.

“I want to be the one you come home to and wake up with. For as long as you’d let me.”

Suna’s laughter came to a halt. He looked at Osamu slowly and found swollen yet hopeful gray eyes already on him. When Osamu held his hands, gently yet firmly, he held his breath. 

Osamu’s gaze didn’t falter. 

Suna let out a shaky breath, “I come with a long list of do’s and don’ts, Miya.”

“Me, too.”

They were in a staredown but they both knew that was a lie. They both do not ask for much, sometimes to a fault. But at any given time that the other needed something, anything, no matter how taxing or easy, they’d be there.

Suna looked at him with analysing eyes.

“You better remember this tomorrow morning”.

“I will!” Osamu almost jumped from where they were seated. “I will.”

Suna just stared. And then he stood up slowly, gracefully. He laced their fingers lazily with one hand and with the other, he cupped Osamu’s face and finally spoke, “Sleep on it, ‘Samu. Tell me again tomorrow,” he brushed his thumb on his cheek, “I can wait.”

“Marry me.”

Suna’s eyes widened and he bursted out laughing, a little too loudly, tipping his head back and shaking it in disbelief. He snatched his hand from Osamu who grabbed hold of it again in a second. He was still laughing but his voice was already cracking and the tears in his eyes were one blink away from falling, “Sleep on it, Osamu.” 

He turned away from Osamu and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and Osamu watched as he scratched the side of his face again.

There was a different kind of silence that filled the room when Suna brushed his teeth with the bathroom door just slightly ajar and Osamu sitting on the floor. Suna’s phone rang and he hurriedly rinsed his mouth to run to it only to shake his head and look at the man on the floor with his phone in his ear, smiling at him.

Suna laughed, “Yer so annoying.”

Osamu got up and hugged Suna, kissing his temple. Suna closed his eyes and hugged him back. 

_Yup_ , he thought, _this was it._

When Osamu woke up, the bed beside him was cold. 

He jolted up only to wince at the pain in his shoulder. He rotated it, attempting to ease the soreness. 

When he heard the faint clanging of pans from his kitchen, he finally remembered the source of the pain and smiled. He trudged out of bed still holding on to his shoulders.

Suna was already setting the food down on the counter and pouring himself a cup of coffee when Osamu trudged out of the room, still holding on to his shoulder. Suna smiled at him but his brows knotted in worry when he saw where he was holding. He mouthed an apology, Osamu only blinked blearily at him.

“I just grabbed and mixed whatever I could find. I gotta go to work so eat up.” Suna took a sip from his coffee, “I’ll meet ya at the station later?”

Osamu made a non-committal hum, his mind was still hazy from sleep. He was usually up and about at this time no matter how late he went to bed, but he hadn’t slept as well as last night in a long time. If it was any other day, he’d be grabbing whatever was easy to eat and make a dash to the store. Right now, he stared at the meal in front of him, and it looked good. 

He watched Suna sit in front of him with nothing but a cup of coffee. He made a mental note to feed the man more.

Suna was almost done with his cup when Osamu finally spoke, “What if I pick ya up instead?”

“You have a store to run, and I have work to do. Let’s just meet at the station. Practical that way.”

Osamu nodded and focused on the food. A spoonful, and then another, “this is really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

As they sat in silence, Osamu held Suna’s hand but Suna switched into holding Osamu’s hand instead.

“Marry me.”

“I will.” Suna squeezed Osamu’s hand before getting up, “Ask me again later, to be sure.”

“Okay.” Osamu smiled but panicked right after. “Wait, yer still going to say yes, right?”

Suna rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Osamu’s neck, Osamu hugged him back at the waist.

Suna leaned down, a brush of their lips before growing into a deep yet slow and calming kiss.

When Suna pulled away, Osamu’s eyes were still closed. He smiled into another kiss, for good measure.

“We’ll find out.”

**–––––**

Rintarou spent all day stuck in a suit for a presentation at work, so when he toed his shoes off the genkan and found his husband watching TV, all sprawled on the couch in the comfiest sweatpants and a ridiculously stretched out shirt, he didn’t even hide the envy and irritation in his face and voice. 

He clicked his tongue, “I’m home.”

“Welcome home.” 

Osamu turned lazily at Rintarou but sat up straight in haste when he saw the unmistakable annoyance on his face and broke into a smile, “Ya wanna get changed?”

Rin pouted and nodded slackly. He loosened his tie and dropped his bag on the floor before he pounced at Osamu and laid himself on top of him. Osamu squirmed a little but wrapped his arm around his lover’s body before planting a kiss on the top of his head.

Rin nuzzled on Osamu’s neck and breathed him in, “Ya didn’t go to work?”

“They had it covered. How was yer day?”

He sighed, long and tired, “Same old, same old.” he blinked and chuckled at how Osamu giggled when his lashes brushed his neck. 

Osamu was too ticklish. One of the things he’d always hold over him. Though Osamu was stronger than he was now, a tickle fight is a fight he’d never lose.

Osamu sat up with Rintarou and let him go only to sit on the floor in front of him.

Rin watched Osamu take off his socks very slowly, then put the slippers back on his feet. 

“Thanks, babe.”

Rin found that he was content with these moments. Maybe even more so.

The humming of the bad drama from the TV in the background, the warm hands kneading at his feet and legs, their quaint apartment that though people said was too small for someone who had his own business, continuously growing at that, was more than enough for them. 

They both knew that these slow and lazy moments were only achieved by constant work of caring, reassuring, loving, and staying in each other’s lives after waiting too _damn_ long. 

It was the calm and quiet that built upon photographs taken from the beach when they were younger and now when they were slightly older. Upon nights spent in silence, skipping rocks by the bridge like the very first time, turning it into a ritual. Upon afternoons spent wrapped in the arms of each other, engulfed in each other’s presence or helping out in the store during weekends, picking up groceries with lazily tangled pinkies, or hard at work rearranging the furniture in their home.

Upon family recipes shared during Christmas and birthdays. Upon shared pride for his sister and support when she performed and a growing list of how to annoy Atsumu but an even longer one on how much they cherished him - not that they’d ever say it in person. 

Upon burnt pancakes in the morning, or tasting new flavors for the menu and pretending it’s good. Upon late nights chewing Osamu’s ear off when he had to perform analysis on the work he brought home.

Upon learning each other’s interests and listening intently when they could only understand half of it. Upon trying new things with each other and sticking to old ones - sharing earphones as they slow dance to god-awful music that they’d call, in unison, “their song” anyway.

Upon him taking ownership of tasks such as cooking at home and doing home repairs while Osamu would take care of the laundry and prepare their clothes for the day and such; the rest they’d battle over nerf gun fights, tickle fights or if they were feeling extra energetic, janken.

Upon lazy mornings bundled up in sheets, long limbs tangled on each other, and bare whispers and muffled laughter on pillows. 

Upon moments when he wasn’t having the best day and Osamu would hug him from the back and kiss his shoulder and he’d do the same, only in different places - his fingers, his knuckles, his eyelids, his temple, his wrists, his back. All while holding the other close. Slowly, constantly saying in words never spoken, I’m here, forever, _with you_.

And also upon days where they don’t see or hear each other. Upon nights spent with their backs against each other only for one of them to pull the other close in a tight embrace and finally speak in hushed and gentle voices.

Upon moments when they’d drop the snark and sarcasm when they have Atsumu or Kiyoomi over when they were having trouble at their home. Binge-watching bad drama, coming with to Kita’s farm and playing with the ducks, setting plates down for dinner, and sometimes, just simply being there to look at, a sight for sore eyes.

And lastly, the multitude of seemingly small things that meant the world to him, like Osamu cutting their hair or scrubbing each other’s backs, buying the soap he likes, knowing each other’s preference in clothes, towels, and coffee, and lazy nights together where Osamu would prop his feet on his lap and he’d massage them while a movie played in the background, just like now. 

Rin looked at Osamu with much tenderness and as if he knew he was being called, Osamu looked up to him in return, sharing a small smile, one that caused the crinkles at the side of their eyes, the one they shared a hundred, if not a thousand times. 

Only now, it didn’t hold any secrets behind, nothing but honesty and their heart on their sleeves.

“Oh wait,” Rin moved hastily to grab his bag and pull out a box of mochi from it, “this is the one ya like, right?” 

Osamu beamed at the delicacy and Rin laughed at how quick his husband let go of him and grabbed the box.

“Oh, and look at this,” Rin took his phone out and showed him a photo of a fox plushie with gray felt for hair, “it looks like you!”

As Rin laughed maniacally at his new find, Osamu looked at him with fondness he didn’t know how he could have ever held back. “Yer so cute, ya know that?”

Although Rin smirked and brushed it off, “ _I know,_ ” he didn’t miss how his cheeks painted in pink at his littlest compliments.

“I’ll help set the table, let’s eat that,” Rintarou held Osamu’s face before getting up, “I’ll just get changed.”

“Okay.”

Right after Rin turned his back on him, Osamu grabbed something under the pillows and his phone before following him in the stealthiest way he could.

Rintarou enthusiastically swung the door to their bedroom open but halted all his movements when he was welcomed with a string of lights hanging along the walls and memories decorating their bedroom in a few photographs of them along the years.

He shook his head and laughed as he knew exactly where this was going. But he took his time carefully looking at every photograph that hung around the room. 

There was a photo of him under the sheets and hiding from what he remembered was a new camera. There was one of Osamu’s back turned against him while a box of a new knife set sat in front of him. He remembered how much their face hurt from smiling after that day.

There were a lot more of both of them laughing as they snuggled on the couch. A photo they took with Atsumu and Kiyoomi during Christmas. Them over breakfast. By the beach. Splayed on the floor. The bar. The water where they’d skip rocks. 

There was a photo of them where Osamu hid in the crook of his neck while he laughed shamelessly, holding Osamu’s head close to him. Another where Rintarou’s eyes were swollen and they sat at a makeshift lounge at the back of the truck. The shine of a band on his hand was almost unnoticeable if one doesn’t know where to look.

In the middle of it all is a frame he never saw before but contained memories he’s memorized and remembered like they were captured yesterday. Two arcade tickets with their names in the scrawniest handwriting: one crisp and one who had seen better days, a dark blob stark on an orange background that was actually an ill-angled and underexposed photo of a couple by the sunset and a photo of them in suits with Osamu hugging him from the side and kissing his cheek and his own smile so big and toothy that his eyes vanished.

From the door, Osamu watched his husband double over and laugh loudly but his eyes were filled with nothing but overwhelming fondness when he turned, “You fucker.”

Osamu shrugged, acting all smug but clearly fighting a smile.

With a pair of the same color of sweatpants he was wearing and an equally worn tee shirt in his hand, Osamu walked towards him and cupped a hand on his face, his eyes watering. 

“Marry me.”

Rintarou choked on his laughter and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hands. He snatched the clothes from his husband’s hands and wrapped his arms around him, muffling his words in his neck, “Are we _really_ still doing this?”

“Why? Do you want to stop?”

“No,” he interjected, almost interrupting Osamu. “But I get to ask you next time, so get ready.”

Osamu chuckled, “Okay.”

He stretches his hand out to snap a photo of them. He took a glance at the photo. _It was perfect._

Osamu hugged him tighter and pressed a kiss to Rintarou’s neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The arcade ticket is a nod to Nae's work "paper trail", my very first Nae fic. Come read it [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933626)
> 
> Thanks to [Samantha Laine](https://twitter.com/slainephoto) for helping me choose which WIP to finish.
> 
> Thanks to [Nons](https://twitter.com/tsumkotaro) for the spice gift, the Osamu-going-with-Michiko-cause-Suna-can't-go, and the awful shot by the sunset headcanon! And also for threatening to hit me when I get discouraged (all good fun).
> 
> Thanks to [Noémie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfic) for reading through this fic for days and salvaging it by not only giving suggestions but also giving me tips and encouragement and pointing out what I can improve on, and just being there to help any time, a true delight, really.
> 
> Thanks to [Esther](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffslynch) for reading through this fic in the 11th hour and gave me love-packed slandering, and listening to my qualms about how "it doesn't work" when I finished my first draft and sharing her works with the world not just to enjoy but to learn from.
> 
> Thank you very much for sticking around till the end. I hope you liked it, and it made you feel things. Maybe, I don't know. I really liked it. A bit. Maybe. I don't know. Maybe.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/accountforfoll7)


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